Bareekate is a (sort of) pun - in Kannada. Bari is to write, baree is only, kate is a story. So, only stories and a reminder to myself that I should write stories - short stories.

Tuesday, 6 November 2012

SabdaavaLi

He rolled
into my life as a grey furry ball. Eyes hardly open. Rapid breathing and an
occasional whimper, almost inaudible, were the indication that he was alive. I
was not in favour of
pets. A dog, especially, did not feel too good in a house where orthodox
Brahmin old women lived. The fact that I was an electrical contractor had
something to do with this decision to have a pet.

The not so
large area around the house was often filled with large bobbins of copper wire,
insulators and other necessities of my profession. There was a vice to grip conduits
while they were cut. There were boxes
too, painted only with primer, to be later painted with enamel paint. These
were targets for petty thieves who managed to sneak in and steal in spite of a
locked gate and high compound wall, the top surface embedded with shards of
glass and bushes planted close to the wall. A ferocious dog would be just fine,
Kittu, my eldest son who was assisting me in my business, insisted. Of course
he loved to have a dog and this was his argument to convince me to get one for
him.

As luck
would have it a family friend, Monnappa, had a few Alsatians. When there was a
new litter he offered me one recited the same reason – to protect the stuff
lying in the compound. I somehow had the feeling that Kittu had a hand in this.
I was concerned about feeding the dog. Since Monnappa was a Kodava and Kodavas eat
meat regularly, it was not too much trouble for him to feed the dogs with meat
and bones regularly. He was also well to do and could afford to. Neither was
the case with me.

He even
offered to feed the dog meat once a week, if someone took it to his house.
Seeing all forces ranged against me and a recent loss seriously upsetting my
commitment to a client, I agreed to have the dog. That is how Caesar came into
my life. Before we knew what was happening he had grown into a fine dog. This
is interesting! I had never referred to a dog as ‘he’ before! I had seen many
dog lovers, including Monnappa, talk of their dogs in human terms and chided
them for it. And here I am, “he” indeed!

It was quite
an effort to train Caesar not to enter the house beyond the verandah to make
sure that the house did not become unclean. This concept, called maDi, is an elaborate
set of rulesun-understandable to all except regulation practitioners who are
born in a family that practiced it.

I had
somehow gotten into the habit of being around when Caesar was fed in the
evenings. Sometimes when I was not home at that time, Caesar would be reluctant
to eat. He had to be coaxed to eat by young children. Sometimes he only ate
when his hunger overcame him. This was touching since I never petted him much. Once
in a while, just before having my bath, I may pat him on the head. Once I
realized that he ate only when I was around, I tried my best to be home by that
time without letting anyone noticing this change in me.

Once, when Caesar was about a year old, I had a sever bout flu
and had to stay in bed for a few days. When he did not see me in the morning, he became restless and kept
looking at the door to my room which opened into the verandah. That was just a
figure of speech as that door was never opened because there was another door
that opened into the hall. Everyone was surprised as to how he knew that my
room was beyond that door. Finally it was opened and he sneaked in and refused
to leave. He slept under my cot, hardly ate and he eat a bit when I asked him
to. He was his usual self only after I was out of bed and was normal again. That
is when I realized how much Caesar was attached to me.

Soon after
my bout of flu, the festival of Deepavali was upon us. I never liked the noisy
part of this festival. Of course, the good food, ritual bath after soaking up
oil liberally smeared all over the body and the rows of oil lamps adorning the
house on the festive night and for many subsequent nights made the other part
bearable – just about. Deepavali was heralded by some youngsters bursting
crackers well ahead of the festival. This seemed to disturb Caesar and he again
came to the door of my room and looked beseechingly at me. I let him in and he
looked a little better. The day before the actual day when most crackers are
burst there many crackers were going off. Caesar became more and more
desperate. Early on Deepavali day when I went out and opened the gate Caesar
slipped out of the gate and ran as if running for dear life. I shouted at him
to come back and he just ignored me. He had never done this before.

I was very
concerned. When he was not back after an hour, I sent some of my electricians on
cycles and Kittu on his motorbike to look for him. Of course, he was not found.
That was one of the worst Deepavalis of my already long life. A Deepavali worse
than this was when my granddaughter’s dress had caught fire and she had badly
injured.

There was a
pall of gloom again on this occasion too. Everyone repeatedly went out to see if he
was back. No such luck. We were all worried and imagined all kinds of horrible
fate befalling him. We were slowly recovering from the loss when one early
morning I dreamt that I heard him bark feebly! I woke up and was telling myself
that it was just a dream when my wife confirmed that she heard it too. I rushed
out and was overjoyed to see him at the gate and I opened the gate and hugged
him -another first. He stood there looking very guilty and apologetic. He
looked up into my eyes and wagged his tail as if apologizing. By that time the
whole household was up and was at the gate. The younger children were
unrestrained in their joy and hugged him and petted him ignoring his dirty coat.

Soon Caesar
was bathed till his coat had regained some of the formerlustre. Food
was hurriedly cooked and brought to him. He waited for me to come to him and
once I had asked him to eat, gruffly, to avoid the others knowing of the knot
in my throat, he ate his food hungrily.

No one knew
where he was in the intervening few days and what he had eaten, if anything at
all. It took him more than a fortnight to regain his former weight. He then continued
to grow till he reached his full size. Every Deepavali thereafter, soon after
the early crackers started going off, he would disappear from the city and returned
only after Deepavali was over. He somehow managed not to run away on utthAna
dwAdasi when some people burst crackers saved from the original Deepavali supplies
for the purpose.

From then
on, my dislike for the almost uncultured custom of bursting crackers was
complete. I had to spend the next ten or so Deepavalis with the worry about his
welfare shadowing the festivities.

3 comments:

Good reading ANil! Sounds like a live rendering straight out of Kittu Thata's father's diary! Thata too had a great German Shepherd Caesar, whom I vividly remember. Ajji had tales to tell us about how he cried and made a fuss when she was hospitalised, how he pleaded to be taken away when he was admitted to the hospital for some treatment etc... I loved his ferocious bark and gentle hand shake..